


Phlochte Drabbles 38-50

by CupcakeGirlA



Series: Phlochte Drabble Series [4]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Double Drabble, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ANOTHER round of drabbles. Comments welcome and encouraged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phlochte Drabbles 38-50

38\. Ice  
“It’s hot.”  
“It’s Florida.”  
“It’s still fucking hot.”  
“Don’t be such a baby! If you came down here more often you’d get used to it.”  
“This is miserable!”  
“Here.”  
(A shout of surprise.)  
“What the fuck! Jesus, Ryan!”  
“What? It’s just some ice. It’s already half melted. Sit still.”  
“I am not going sit still while you stuff ice down my shorts!”  
“Fine. Be fucking miserable then. Just quit bitching about it.”  
“…”  
“…”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry I shoved ice down your pants. That wasn’t exactly nice.”  
“…”  
“I have an idea. Wanna go float around in the pool?” 

 

39\. Glow/40. Consider (double-drabble)  
You knew this whole experience would be emotional. But that doesn’t prepare you for this. The rush of emotion as you walk out for closing ceremonies. You’d missed them in Beijing, and insisted that you get to go this time no matter the delay it would cause your press tour. 

It’s amazing to get lost in the crowd. Thousands of athletes mingling, celebrating. You sit surrounded by other Olympians for probably the last time in your career. Leaning back you feel both complete and utter joy, but also sorrow, and loss. 

“Cheer up, Mike. You’re the most decorated Olympian like EVER. You should be happy!” Ryan says, nudging you in the shoulder with his own. You sigh, forcing a grin. “What’s up?” he asks concerned. 

“It’s the last time. The last night. After this…it’s officially over. Retirement,” you explain. He eyes you with more understanding on his face than you could expect from anyone else. He pulls a face. 

“You don’t have to retire, you know. Not forever. Take some time. You never know. I’m going again. Jason went again. So did Brendan. You’re only 27!” he says, totally thrilled to be 11mos older than you. 

You begin to reconsider.

 

41\. Court  
You don’t realize what he’s doing until later. He sends you jokes to your phone every couple of hours, compliments your shoes, gets a hold of your ipod and when you finally get it back, you have a whole new playlist of Pump-Up music waiting for you to enjoy. He saves you a seat on the bus to the training pool, sits beside you on the plane to France, and when you run out of your favorite power bars, he tracks down the only store in Vichy that has them and gets you two boxes. 

Ryan Lochte is courting you.

 

42\. Rust  
The two of them take a break in the months leading into London. Neither of them need distractions, or personal feelings getting in the way of their drive to win. It’s easier for them both to back off, let certain feelings hibernate for a few months. 

Then suddenly their games are over, and they’ve both medaled. They’re both happy with the outcome and when they get back to the dorms after Michael’s last race, gold of course, they let all those sleeping feelings back out to run wild. Michael’s afraid things will be weird, rusty between them. Ryan knows better. 

 

43\. Rain  
He’d always kinda thought that kissing Mike in the rain would be like that scene in The Notebook, all that tension, passion, and horniness, you know, without all the angst. 

In reality it’s just kind of cold, and miserable, and wetter than he’s used too, being fully dressed the way he is. But mostly it’s awkward, and uncomfortable, his jeans are chaffing, and Mike’s stiff, afraid of a paparazzo jumping out and catching them. Ryan pulls away. 

“Wanna go back to the room, take a hot shower, and continue this in private?” he asks. Mike smirks. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

44\. Tangled  
Hands tug at clothes, shirts flying across the room, chasing shoes, socks, and jeans. Fingers grip, slide on skin, hands catching in zippers. 

A moan, soft, deep, urgent. Mouths crashing together, lips sucking, tasting, claiming. 

“Please,” uttered breathlessly, desperately. 

“Wait,” reassurance that goes almost unnoticed. 

“Just... fuck!” 

A louder groan. They land on the bed, bounce, already moving. Rutting together. 

“Oh,” whispered almost reverently. 

“Good?” 

A gasped laugh. 

“Fuck yeah!” 

Lips caught by sharp white teeth. 

“Come on,” it’s a demand, a command. 

Bodies arch, pressing and pushing, and lifting off the bed. 

“Ahhhh!” 

Heavy breathing. 

“Yeah,” soft murmured agreement. 

 

45\. Knot/46. Relief (double-drabble)  
Ryan wishes he could tie the two of them together into one big impossible knot. If he spent enough time on it, had enough skill, he could make it so nothing could unravel them, nothing could pull them apart. They’d be stuck with each other forever, no matter how anyone else picked and prodded and tugged, trying to separate them. 

He watches Michael talk to the press, sees the tension invading the line of his shoulders, the curve of his jaw. He watches Mike shake his head, tilting it to answer her question as politely as he can without sounding like an ass. Ryan knows it’s probably a question about him and the ‘rivalry.’ It was getting harder and harder to answer those questions. Taking more and more patience each time. 

Ryan turns away, heading back to the ready room, he’s due for a massage and an ice bath. He winces at the mere notion, and goes to collect his gym bag. 

He startles, when long arms wind around him from behind, a chin pressing to fit perfectly into the dip of his shoulder. Michael. They fit like puzzle-pieces. Maybe knots weren’t necessary after all. 

“Good swim today.”

“You too.” 

 

47\. Deconstruction/48. Close (double-drabble)  
Figuring out what makes Ryan tick is easy. It is knowing how to negotiate all the different facets of Ryan’s personality that always throws Michael for a loop. He seems like he’s all laidback Florida surfer dude, and up to a certain point he is. But he’s so much more than that. Much more, and sometimes Mike just doesn’t know how to deal. 

Ryan’s a brother and a son and an uncle. Mike gets all that. He is all of those things too. He’s a swimmer, a student, a friend, and a music aficionado. Again, Mike gets it. 

But he’s also a skateboarder, a fashion designer, a Gator, a dare-devil, a prankster, a hooligan, and a Lochte. That last one doesn’t seem like a big deal, but Michael is a Phelps, and that means something different. 

Ryan’s family is different from Michael’s in a lot of ways. Mike, his sisters, and mother are close because of the things that happened to them. Ryan’s family is close because they’re so dependent on each other, so emotionally involved in each other’s personal business they have no choice but to turn to each other.

And sometimes that confuses the hell out of Michael. 

 

49\. Routine/50. Weakness (double-drabble)  
On the blocks Mike is like a machine, every action with a purpose. Preplanned and well-rehearsed routine. Wiping down the block, stripping down to his jammers, the arm flaps. Even the fans know what he’s going to do before he does it. 

He is all calm cool confidence. There is no emotion in his face until the race is over. Only then do you see the joy or excitement at a win. The disappointment or anger at a loss, or not quite fast enough time. 

The one thing he never shows is weakness. That is saved for in private. Bob sees it and you see it. You've watched him grimace while he slides into an ice bath, wincing through a deep tissue massage his head carefully turned away from the person digging their fingers into his back like he was made of clay instead of flesh. You’ve seen him pushing himself to the limit over and over again all without even a moan of pain. You can see it even when it goes unacknowledged. After all, you are the one who will be there later in the dark of the night when his body hurts enough to make him cry.


End file.
